


Needling the Cat Might Just Hurt You Too

by 00Geeky00_00Goggles00



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor is in Hell for a Reason (Hazbin Hotel), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Grooming, Husk is Bad At Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), I Don't Even Know, I think?, M/M, Mild Blood, Needles, Pinfeathers - Freeform, Poor Husk (Hazbin Hotel), RadioHusk, Radiohusk Art/Fic Swap, Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), They're both bad at feelings and it hurts me., Wing Grooming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25966981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/00Geeky00_00Goggles00/pseuds/00Geeky00_00Goggles00
Summary: Husk might be a cat, but he's got wings. Pins and needles in those things are a bitch, especially when you grow them yourself. Alastor stops by to make it worse, but it seems like now is not the time to needle his poor cat more than he already has.
Relationships: Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 205





	Needling the Cat Might Just Hurt You Too

**Author's Note:**

> Made for my matchup on the RadioHusk Discord server! This fic is a part of the Art/Fic swap event. This turned out okay and the event is pretty neat. Thanks for stopping by! ^_^

"Fuckin'... shit... c'mere you... FUCKIN'... DAMN IT!"

Alastor's ears flicked when he heard that particularly loud curse coming from down the hall. It sounded as though dear Husker was having trouble with something. The loud crash that came a few seconds later was accompanied by a rough voiced "FUCK!". Yes that was certainly his favorite feathered feline. The Radio Demon smirked. Perfect timing for him to drop by. 

Alastor slunk through the shadows to right behind where Husk was standing. His bedroom lamp and an unfinished bottle of vodka lay on the floor, broken and spilled respectively. All of the lights were on and the mirrors were all angled towards the drunkard which was very strange. The room smelled fine -save for a bit of booze- so the tom couldn't be completely sloshed yet. Yet, looking at the room's occupant, the deer tilted his head to see small, white, stick-like things falling off of his friend. Husk was looking over his shoulder and into the mirror, squinting against the light and muttering to himself. Both arms and his tail were grabbing at the middle of his back, with very little success. A muted crack came from one of the old cat's joints and he promptly grunted in pain and relaxed his muscles...

...only to tense them again less than a second later, upon seeing his friend and employer standing in what little shadow there was in the room, smiling like a creep. All in all, his standard, heart attack inducing entrance. The sudden tension caused another joint to crack and the cat to drop himself heavily in the nearest chair, conspicuously leaning forward to avoid something.

"The FUCK Al? Ever heard of privacy?!" Husk blustered.

"Good afternoon to you as well!" Alastor greeted, no remorse apparent whatsoever. "What might you be doing to make such an interesting ruckus?"

The gambler ran a hand down his face in annoyance and rubbed at his shoulder to try and get it back in working order. 

"I'm dealin' with pin feathers, what of it?" He grumbled. Alastor tilted his head at a frankly frightening angle and gave a hearty chuckle.

"Oh, Husker! Fitting that you're a gambler. You're always such a card! Ha-ha-ha! These little things are what's causing you such grief?" He teased, plucking a sheet of them out of his wing with his magic. Husk made a strangled noise and tensed up again.

"Watch it asshole, or I'll shred the fuckin' velvet from your antlers next time! That shit hurts!" He groused. The deer narrowed his eyes and the smile sharpened.

"I would be quite surprised to see you try, my dear. Try and fail, I assure you." The dapper man chided. 

When he didn't get an answer, he slowed down to examine the cat in front of him in confusion. His normally acceptably groomed fur was a mess, those little pins scattered throughout. The gambler was depressingly sober and tired, and Alastor was a bit surprised to see small pinpricks of blood dripping out where he had removed many of them at once. He picked up one of the discarded pins and tested the sharpness. Unlike the birds he had plucked when he was alive, the feathers coming off of Husk was sharp enough to break his own skin on its own with surprisingly little effort. It was then he realized that the cat's primary sin was sloth. He wouldn't have the energy to pull many of these out of his body. The man was a pin cushion for his own sin. Internally, Al grimaced at the concept of his friend suffering from this as he did his own hunger. And here he'd thought the tom had it easy.

Husk watched his old friend make this discovery tiredly, preparing to be mocked for his form or just left to his devices. He honestly didn't care which, Al would be Al and Al was an asshole. A generally polite and kinda funny asshole, but an asshole all the same. The tom sighed and squeezed his eyes shut, shifting to get up and force his complaining joints to work with him and pull the misplaced pin out. Instead, Alastor grabbed himself another chair, and sat behind him. Not trusting that whatsoever, Husk expanded his wings and his fur stood on end.

"The fuck are you doing?" He growled. The deer leaned around his side, not forcing the cat to turn himself too far. His joints were thankful. The redder demon wore an odd expression, one that on anyone else might be concern. Al coughed awkwardly and removed his suit jacket, rolling up his sleeves.

"Well, my fine feathered friend! It is simply no fun to engage in verbal sparring with one who is in too much pain to speak! Believe me, I have learned at least that much over my years of broadcasts. You wouldn't believe how low some people's pain tolerance is! Ha-hahahahaha!" he announced joyfully. 

Husk had been around him for a couple decades now. That whole spiel was only half true. He gave Al an unimpressed stare, not fully accepting that as a motive. Alastor always had a motive. At the continued lack of reaction, the radio host let his smile drop a tad. The edges were softer and not as intimidating as usual, especially without the full armor of his suit. He spoke again.

"And perhaps it was... a tad discourteous to remove those needles in such a way. You are quite fun to poke and prod, my friend! You're less fun to poke at when you cannot fight back with full passion. Few people attempt to meet me blow for blow in such things and stick around for a cognac afterward. Your uh... company is much appreciated." Alastor said, less confident than before. Husk, stunned at that tidbit of information, blinked before sweeping up the bottle of vodka that still had a swig or two in it, draining it, and presenting Alastor with his back.

"Yeah, yeah, you're not terrible either. At least one fuckin' person doesn't shit themselves and run when I start talkin' and drinkin'. Just pick 'em out one at a time, willya?" Husk grumbled.

Both of them were content with the calm atmosphere that followed their mutual understanding, Alastor breaking the silence by playing some tunes in the background. If some of the slower songs sounded a tad romantic, neither of them was going to mention it. The repetitive motions of careful plucking and brushing were calming to the radio host. The sight of clean fur and feathers in front of him felt like an accomplishment. It was times like this that he understood where Niffty got her satisfaction in tidying up. This time, he wasn't just tidying for his own sake. He considered this with every relieved sigh of the veteran in front of him. Each small wince at some of the more stubborn pins actually had him gentling his touch instead of sadistically pressing on the pin like he would with most demons.

As he put the last pin he could find on the pile of them he had on the floor, the chaotic soul had a wonderful idea about what to do with the dreadful things. As the cat got up and dragged himself to the door for his shift, wings relaxed and almost scraping the floor and a mumbled "Thanks Al" on his lips, the redhead decided to let the avian feline in on his little trick.

"Oh Husker~!" He called, a song in his voice. The furred demon stopped mid-step and turned to face his employer, deadpan expression and all.

"Yeah?" He grunted. Alastor sidled casually up to the irritable demon and threw an arm around his shoulders. He dramatically threw open the door and stepped out with his companion. He swept his other arm out in front of him and smirked at the tom.

"How about we put these..." Alastor flicked his wrist and the pile of pins was summoned into a bag in his hands. "... to good use? Those bar stools seem a touch too comfortable for my tastes. Heck, so do the chairs in the lobby! What say you, my good man?"

Husk considered it for a moment, then smugly drew up the corners of his lips.

"Five bucks says Rainbows and Brimstone sits on one first."

"Another five on the salacious spider! Oh goodie, this is such a treat. I haven't gotten to be petty like this in ages! Ha ha ha!" Alastor enthused. Husk tiredly, but fondly shook his head.

'You're such a fuckin' asshole." He mumbled. Al just smiled wider.

"Ah, but this is how you tolerate me, mon ami!"

"Shuddup."

**Author's Note:**

> These two mad lads. XD Not my usual ship, but hey, why not try some others out every now and then? ^_^


End file.
